What If?
by AccioSpectrespecs
Summary: What if Harry Potter's parents never died? What if Voldemort never existed? When Harry finds a mysterious potion that claims that it can modify the past, Harry drinks it and wakes up to find himself with his parents and some siblings. But Harry's sudden act has endangered the entire Wizarding World. [Harry Potter AU. Rated T just to be safe.]
1. Chapter 1

It was just another weekend at Hogwarts. Most students spent their weekends either loafing about or catching up on schoolwork. Or, in Hermione Granger's case, studying with their eyes burned out. This weekend - for the first time in weeks - Harry had some free time. But today, Harry wasn't really up for chatting with Ron and Hermione or playing Quidditch. No, today, Harry decided, he would simply wander the castle grounds. So he hopped out of the armchair and set off.

He first visited the astronomy tower, then the staircase, the herbology classroom, and the Room of Requirement.

Then suddenly, he felt an urge to go somewhere he had not been since he was eleven years old; somewhere he had been warned not to go.

Harry rushed up to the Gryffindor common room, quickly muttering "Hello" to some fellow classmates, and grabbed his invisibility cloak, slipping it on when nobody was looking.

He darted past The Fat Lady and snuck through the library, and into the abandoned classroom that lay beside the restricted section.

Harry was now in a familiar room, that was lit by only the dim light of a candle.

And then he saw it; the mirror. The bright, vibrant mirror, that seemed to light up the second his eyes caught sight of it. "The Mirror of Erised" was still etched across the top of the glorious thing on golden writing.

He knew he really ought not to do it, and that it would only upset him if he did - but he found himself staring into the wonderful thing.

His parents stood there welcomingly; his mother offering him a sweet smile, with her green eyes twinkling and his father giving him a goofy grin with his dark hair and glasses.

Although, deep down, Harry knew that they were simply reflections, he couldn't help but convince himself that this was real - that they were standing right in front of him at this moment.

And then another person appeared in the mirror - a man with a mound of curly hair.

Sirius.

Harry couldn't bear to look in the mirror any longer. He pulled his eyes away from it and sat down on the dusty ground. He knew that he shouldn't have looked at it in the first place, and that it was really his fault - but did it really have to show him his godfather? Did it really have to remind him of the death of the last remaining relative he was certain cared about him?

Harry sighed, bending his head down even lower. The candlelight started to flicker, then brighten, then flicker again - only to brighten again. Harry pulled himself up, wiping the dust from his robes. The candle stood on a rusty table. Harry was about to blow it out, and then usee a spell to ignite it again when he noticed something.

A thin, small vial filled with a strange purple liquid sat beside the candle. Harry had not noticed it before. The liquid seemed to puff up, then fall, in the same way that the candlelight had acted only seconds ago. Harry picked up the vial and noticed a tiny slip of paper tied to it with a piece of string. He held it up to the candle so that he could see it better, and begun to read what was written on the slip.

**_"See what could become,_**

**_History can be undone._**

**_The time has come at last;_**

**_You can modify the past."_**

The minute Harry had finished the poem, he leapt up excitedly.

He knew in an instant what he wanted to modify.

He could change his fate. He could have the life he never had. He could have his parents back.

Harry unscrewed the cap of the vial, and held it to his mouth. But before the violet liquid could reach his lips, he began to think.

This could be a trick. No, this was most likely a trick. A death eater had simply thought of the most tempting thing possible, scribbled it on a piece of paper, stuck it to a vial of liquid, placed it somewhere no one but Harry was bound to find it and waited patiently for Harry to come across it. This was most likely a poison that would either end Harry's life immediately or transport him to Voldemort.

Harry examined the bottle, biting his lip. He didn't know what to do. He wished Dumbledore could tell him what to do, but he probably didn't know either …

Harry frowned, placing the vial back on the table and screwing the lid back on tightly.

But then he glanced at the mirror, and saw the happy faces of his parents and Sirius. He couldn't bear it any longer. He needed to do this.

So he pulled off the cap, tossing it onto the ground, and held it to his lips.

"One,

Two,

Three."

The potion soared down his throat before anyone could stop it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wake up, Harry, you lazy git." a voice rung through Harry's head.

Harry sighed, eyes still closed. "Just a little bit longer..." he groaned.

"We don't have much longer." the voice repeated. It was loud and silvery, one that Harry had never heard before. "Harry!" the voice repeated, as Harry felt a sharp kick. The impact caused him to roll off the bed and bang his head off the ground.

"Ow!" Harry shrieked, opening his eyes quickly. In his blurry vision, a girl stood in front of him. She was about 5'4, with flaming red hair and deep green eyes. Her mouth was curled into a scowl, and her arms were folded together. She was wearing muggle clothing; a plain blue jumper with jeans and some boots.

"Who are you?" was the first thing that escaped Harry's mouth.

"Blimey, I didn't hit you that hard, did I?" the girl raised an eyebrow. "I'm Florence - your sister, idiot!"

Harry rubbed his head, and spotted his glasses on the ground. Putting them back on, he blinked at her once more. "Sorry, but I really don't know who you are, or why I'm here."

"You're not being funny, Harry!" the girl glowered at him.

"I'm not trying to b-"

"Just get dressed and come down for breakfast quickly. We don't want to miss the train, now, do we?" Florence said, and headed out of the room, her hair bouncing as she walked.

Harry sighed, pulling himself up. He had no clue what was going on, or why he was here. All he could remember was the spells that he had learnt at some school previously. He didn't even know his age. And he was apparently called Harry. Or maybe it was just a nickname. He must've hit himself badly.

He pulled on his clothes and examined the room. The room had a broomstick set - with Quidditch robes, a Firebolt broomstick, broom cleaning supplies and several fake ornaments composed of a snitch, a bludger and some wizard riding a broomstick. The room was painted red, with a wood floor. A small armchair was in the corner, with a red and gold scarf wrapped around the top of it. Harry recognised them as the Gryffindor colours.

After glancing at the clock that stood above his bed, he decided to head downstairs, not wanting to irritate anyone else. The stairs creaked with every step he took, as though they were used often. He headed forward into a room which he presumed was the kitchen.

The kitchen was pretty large, with black and white tiles covering the floor and walls. In the center, there stood a table with six seats. Four of the seats were occupied. Harry awkwardly headed over to the sixth one and sat down beside Florence and some other girl who he didn't know.

"Hello, Harry!" a cheery voice said. Harry looked up and saw a woman pouring some Cornflakes into a bowl and filling it up with milk. She headed over to the table and placed it in front of Harry. "Eat up!"

The woman had long red hair the same shade as Florence's, and the same green eyes. Harry had green eyes too, he realised, and stared up at her. She must be some relative of his.

"Harry's always late," the girl beside him muttered, digging into her cereal. She had ink black hair that hung over her face and green eyes. She looked about thirteen or fourteen.

Harry didn't say anything. He reckoned that if he asked for her name, she'd be just as insulted as Florence was. So he kept quiet.

"You're awful quiet today," the man opposite him said. "Are you alright?"

This man almost looked exactly like Harry; the same ruffled hair, the same glasses, the same smile.

"Err, yeah, I'm fine. I just...banged my head off the wall." Harry stuttered quickly, as he started to eat his Cornflakes.

"_Florence._" the man gave her a goofy grin, and Florence smirked in return.

That was when Harry noticed the last person at the table. It was a boy, who seemed to be about eleven - the youngest of the lot - with red hair and hazel eyes. He was picking at his food, looking nervous.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

The boy looked up at him. "I'm worried which house I'm going to be sorted into," he frowned. "I don't want to be a Slytherin!"

"Hey," the woman said, pulling over a chair and sitting down beside him. "We don't care what house you're sorted into, Robby. Look at Ida - she's a Ravenclaw, and she's perfectly happy."

Harry glanced at the girl by his side. So she was Ida.

A few minutes later, everyone had finally finished eating. The man glanced at his watch. "I reckon it's time we got going, kids." he announced. "Are you ready, Lily?" he turned to the woman.

"We need to make sure everyone has everything they need first!" Lily exclaimed. "Do you all have your wands, pets and suitcases left in the hall?"

_Pets?_ Harry thought. _Hedwig!_

He darted upstairs and found a cage hidden on the windowsill, behind the curtains, in which a proud snowy owl stood. She pecked at Harry's finger affectionately as he picked the cage up and retreated downstairs with it. He found a suitcase with "Harry" scrawled across the front of it in messy handwriting, and a holly wand waiting for him in the hall, so he picked them up, too. Everyone else followed him as they all rushed out the door, squashing into the car together.

"Another year at Hogwarts!" the man sung cheerily, as everyone laughed. "God knows what tricks you'll get up to there."


End file.
